The Grub-and-Stakers Pinch a Poke

by Charlotte MacLeod

  Her husband’s effort to be a good host in the face of all obstacles reminded Dittany that she had her own responsibilities as a hostess. “Perhaps Thusie would like a drink of milk for the road,” she suggested as Andy carried the box up from the cellar.

  “Thanks,” he replied, “but she’d better wait till she gets home. I don’t want her getting carsick on top of everything else. Maybe you could lend me an old blanket or something to wrap around the box just so she won’t get chilled again.”

  “Of course.” Dittany fetched an afghan her mother had crocheted in stripes of orange, vermilion, scarlet, and deep crimson. “This ought to keep her warm. Here, let me help you wrap.”

  They’d got Thusie nicely tucked up and Andy was on his way out the door when the telephone rang. It was Wilhedra Thorbisher-Freep, wanting to talk with Carolus.

  “I’m sorry,” Dittany told her, “but that won’t be possible.”

  Wilhedra’s “Oh?” was reminiscent of a January night in Aklavik. “May I ask why not?”

  “Because the phone’s downstairs and he’s up.”

  “Don’t you have an extension?”

  “Nope. My grandmother considered them an effete and decadent notion leading to hardening of the arteries for lack of exercise, so we’ve refrained from having one installed out of filial piety.”

  “How quaint. But then how can I get in touch with Carolus?”

  “We might bring Roger Munson and his sons back here with the stretcher to carry him down, but I hate to ask because they had such an awful time getting him up. I’m not sure Carolus would go for the idea, anyway. He did some pretty fancy cussing en route the first time,” Dittany explained. “Couldn’t you just write a note?”

  “And ask your Aunt Arethusa to deliver it, perhaps? I suppose she’s up there with him, playing Florence Nightingale to the hilt.”

  “Nope. She’s gone off with Andy, Archie, and Daniel.”

  Wilhedra digested that information in silence for a moment, then she inquired in a less hostile tone, “How is Carolus bearing up?”

  “As well as can be expected. He ate a hearty lunch a while ago. Osbert’s checking on him now. I can yell up the stairs and see whether he has any message, if you like.”

  “No, don’t bother. I’ll write the note. By the way,” Wilhedra added in an offhand manner that didn’t fool Dittany a bit, “who are Archie and Daniel?”

  “Didn’t you meet them last night at the play? Archie is Osbert’s agent and Daniel’s a producer who’s going to buy Dangerous Dan, we hope.”

  “Oh yes, I remember now. One tall and thin, one short and stout. Dot and dash, Father called them. And where does Andy McNaster come in?”

  “He’s putting them up at the inn and helping Arethusa show them around because Osbert and I are stuck here with Carolus. Thanks to your father,” Dittany couldn’t help adding in view of that crack about dot and dash.

  “My father? What did he have to do with it?”

  “Everything. He dropped by during breakfast to explain why he wasn’t able to come, and made a lovely speech about how Carolus couldn’t go to your house when he left the hospital because you’d sprained your ankle and the maid would leave if he asked her to take care of you both. Your father claimed the only alternatives were for Carolus to pine alone and desolate in a nursing home or else be offered a haven by kind and compassionate friends, namely us.”

  “Why you in particular?”

  “Your father can answer that better than I. Anyway, the upshot was that Roger Munson went to the hospital and got Carolus and brought him here; and here Carolus has to stay until the doctor says he’s fit to leave. Wilhedra, I’m sorry about your ankle. I’m sorry about Carolus’s toe. But right now I’m sorriest for Osbert and myself. So why don’t I just go tell Carolus you were asking for him and if you have any further objections to the way his convalescence is being handled, I suggest you share them with your father.”

  “Yes, Dittany, of course. I simply didn’t understand the situation. And it’s so frustrating being laid up like this when I desperately want to be making myself useful to Carolus. I must say it does seem Arethusa might have managed to squeeze out a few minutes’ time for him after he practically had to carry her on his back all through the play.”

  “I’ll tell her you said so. Good-bye, Wilhedra.”

  By this time, Osbert was back downstairs. “He’s all curried and watered and feeling his oats, Sergeant. Do you want to go up now?”

  “Aye, let’s get on wi’ it.”

  “I’ll go too,” Dittany said, “and give him Wilhedra’s message.”

  What with one thing and another, this was the first she’d seen of their less than welcome guest since Roger and his boys had lugged him up the stairs. She found Carolus, almost unrecognizable in apricot silk pajamas, propped up against Gram Henbit’s best pillowcases. Trust Roger Munson to pick out the ones with the crocheted edges she’d been saving for when Osbert’s mother came to visit.

  “Wilhedra just called,” she told him after the ritual inquiries as to his current state of being had been adequately dealt with. “She’s laid up with a sprained ankle. Did anybody tell you?”

  “Yes, Roger mentioned it on the way from the hospital. How did she do that?”

  “Slipped on the stairs, her father said. She wants you to know how sorry she is that she can’t take care of you.”

  “Nice of her.” Carolus didn’t sound much interested. “What’s on your mind, Sergeant MacVicar?”

  “A vast deal, Mr. Bledsoe, and none of it pleasant. Are you aware that two different attempts on your life appear to hae been made sin’ last you supped?”

  “Two different attempts? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Firstly, as you know, you narrowly escaped a mortal wound frae a live bullet exchanged for the blank cartridge Andrew McNaster was supposed to fire at your chest. Secondly, you were apparently intended to sustain a fatal bite frae a cobra delivered to this house late the day’s morn in a florist’s box addressed to you.”

  “What?” Hurling bedclothes left and right, Carolus struggled to get up. “I hate snakes! Get me out of here.”

  Osbert pushed him back. “Whoa there, Carolus. Hold your horses. Ethel saved you from the cobra and Andy McNaster took it home.”

  “Andy McNaster? And you simply let him?”

  “Why not?” said Dittany. “It was his cobra. Her name’s Arethusa and she lives in a glass box next to his radiator.”

  “I’m sure she does, when she’s not off helping Andy run his business.”

  “That is a verra strong statement, Mr. Bledsoe,” said Sergeant MacVicar. “I assume you, being a lawyer, hae firm grounds for making it.”

  “I believe I’d have little difficulty supporting my observation if I had to,” Carolus replied coolly, “though I’d been under the impression that as the aggrieved party in this case, I had the right to express myself without being jumped on.”

  “Nae censure was implied, Mr. Bledsoe, nor will any be given unless it’s deserved. Then you hae reason to believe Mr. McNaster constitutes a threat to your well-being, notwithstanding his refusal to shoot e’en a supposed blank cartridge at you yestreen?”

  “Mr. McNaster showed no such reluctance at the dress rehearsal, Sergeant. I might also remind you that he did in fact succeed in maiming me for life. Whether this was done in total innocence as he alleges or as the result of his losing his nerve about committing a cold-blooded murder in front of several hundred witnesses, I leave you to discover. As for this morning’s incident, I can only repeat what Dittany just told me. It was McNaster’s cobra.”

  Chapter 16

  “COULD YOU PERCHANCE GIVE us a hint as to whyfor yon McNaster might take a notion to murder you, Mr. Bledsoe?” Sergeant MacVicar asked politely.

  “There’s nothing I’d rather do, Sergeant. What it boils down to is that I’ve had certain professional dealings with Mr. McNaster in which serious questions of illegal procedures were involved.
I’m afraid I can’t go into specific details without committing a breach of client confidentiality. However, I can assure you that McNaster has sound reason to fear that his so-called reformation is going to rest on extremely shaky ground for as long as I’m allowed to remain alive.”

  “Yoursel’ having been always on the side of law an’ order, nae doot?”

  “Always,” Carolus replied sweetly.

  Dittany started to say “I object” but snapped her mouth shut before the words could escape. Since she and Osbert appeared to be stuck with taking care of the lawyer for at least the next few days, it would be easier on all three of them if Charlie didn’t know his cover had been blown. Carolus had noticed her lips begin to move, though. Fortunately he guessed wrong about what she’d been about to say.

  “Perhaps, Dittany, you were wondering whether it would be tactless to mention my, shall we say, increasingly close friendship with Osbert’s aunt, and the all-too-obvious effect it appears to be having on Mr. McNaster. Ridiculous, I know.”

  “Yes, isn’t it,” Dittany agreed. “Andy knows as well as the rest of us that you’ve already plighted your troth to Wilhedra Thorbisher-Freep.”

  That was not the reply Carolus Bledsoe had expected, and it certainly wasn’t the one he’d wanted. “Does he, indeed? Then Andy must know a good deal more about my personal business than I do.”

  “Stuff it, Carolus,” said Osbert. “You needn’t try to play cozy with us. Jenson spilled the beans about your secret engagement to the whole cast and crew at breakfast here this morning.”

  “Ah yes, Jenson.” Carolus looked much like a man who’d just bitten into a juicy red apple and discovered half a worm. “He does have a flair for the dramatic gesture, doesn’t he? I expect Jenson’s decided I’m eligible for his theatrical collection now that I’ve been shot onstage during a performance.”

  “Then if Wilhedra calls again, do you want us to tell her the engagement’s off?” Dittany asked him.

  “I’d far rather you didn’t tell her anything at all. Whatever you said could only lead to hurt feelings and the Thorbisher-Freeps are old friends whom I don’t want to offend. I’ll have a little chat with Wilhedra as soon as I’m back on my feet. She and I understand each other very well, I’m thankful to say.”

  “I should think you might be, eh,” said Dittany. “It would be awful to get slapped with a breach of promise suit while your ex-wife’s still trying to have you bagged for fraud.”

  Carolus tried hard to portray mild amusement. “You do have a charming way of bringing comfort to the afflicted, my dear. Let me assure you, Jenson Thorbisher-Freep would never set himself or his daughter up to play a courtroom scene unless he could officiate as judge, and even he might have a hard time convincing himself that was possible. Anyway, Wilhedra has another admirer, as you must have gathered from that absurd scene in the restaurant last night. During which threats against my person were uttered, Sergeant MacVicar, in case you hadn’t heard.”

  “I hae heard, Mr. Bledsoe. Leander Hellespont made another appearance backstage in the gymnasium whilst you an’ the rest of the cast were getting ready for the performance.”

  “I didn’t know that! How did you find out?”

  “It’s my business to find out, Mr. Bledsoe. Yon Hellespont is already being investigated by the Scottsbeck police, as is your ex-wife who was also seen backstage.”

  “What about that chap who was supposed to be tailing her? I gave him strict orders to keep her out of trouble.”

  “You didn’t give him orders to keep her out of the women’s rest room, did you?” asked Dittany.

  Carolus grunted. “How could I? Anyway, I can’t believe it’s Ermeline who’s trying to kill me. She’d rather keep me alive so she can watch me squirm. But I’m relieved to know some action’s being taken. Let’s hope somebody comes up with results before my would-be murderer gets lucky. Can’t you put a guard on this house?”

  “You’ve been guarded e’er since you arrived, Mr. Bledsoe,” Sergeant MacVicar informed him sternly.

  “Then how did that cobra get here?”

  “Yon cobra did not get to you, Mr. Bledsoe. You were in nae mair danger whilst it was on these premises than you are noo that it’s been taken away. Gin you deem yoursel’ unsafe here, however, I can arrange for your transferral to a place of maximum security.”

  “Where, for instance? The Scottsbeck jail?”

  “Aye, or the county mental hospital. Tak’ your pick.”

  “Thanks for nothing, I’ll chance it here. Osbert, have you any whiskey in the house?”

  “Yep.” Osbert had settled himself beside Dittany in the window seat. He continued to sit.

  “Then would you mind getting me some?” Carolus asked him in no gracious tone.

  “Sorry. Roger said not while you’re on antibiotics.”

  Carolus said something luridly uncomplimentary about Roger Munson. Osbert heard him unmoved.

  “No more Mr. Nice Guy, eh? You might as well get this straight, Carolus; you’re here because the Thorbisher-Freeps couldn’t have you and a nursing home wouldn’t take you. My wife and I will do our best to make you comfortable, but that isn’t going to include anything that might interfere with your speediest possible recovery. You’re welcome to a cup of tea if you want it.”

  “Don’t bother,” Carolus replied sulkily. “Since I’m only here on sufferance, I mustn’t put you to any extra trouble.”

  “Why not?” said Dittany. “Everybody else does. I’ll put the kettle on. Don’t anybody say anything interesting while I’m gone.”

  Sergeant MacVicar stood up. “I believe everything has been said that needed to be said at this stage of the investigation. Mr. Bledsoe, gin you happen to think of any further information that might be of use, it will be in your best interest to pass it along to Deputy Monk or mysel’ with all dispatch. In the meantime, you can best serve yoursel’ and us by keeping calm and following your doctor’s orders. I see Roger Munson getting out of his car wi’ a television set in his arms, so I’ll leave you the noo to suffer his attentions in whatever manner you see fit.”

  Dittany went downstairs to let the sergeant out and Roger in. Then she put on the kettle, sat down in the kitchen rocker to wait for it to boil, and fell asleep. She woke with the kettle ready to dance off the stove and Osbert bending over her, smoothing back her light brown hair.

  “Are you all right, darling?”

  “I guess so.” She yawned and did a little experimental stretching. “I don’t know what got into me, I never sleep in the daytime. Do something about that kettle, will you, darling? Carolus must be yammering for his tea. Do you think we made a mistake telling him about the cobra?”

  “He had to know, dear.” Osbert filled the teapot and started fixing a tray. “Shall I give him some of this stuff Zilla brought?”

  “No, don’t, for heaven’s sake. He’s had enough shocks to his system already. Give him that last bit of coffee cake and a few of Therese’s cookies. Those ought to hold him till suppertime, whenever that may be. Is Roger still here?”

  “No, he went straight home as soon as he’d got the television set working. Hazel’s brother Euonymus and his wife are visiting and they were in the midst of a Chinese checkers tournament. What are we having for supper, by the way?”

  “Could you eat beans on toast?”

  “Us old cowhands can always eat beans on toast, pardner. I wonder what Archie and Daniel are doing.”

  “As a guess, ogling,” Dittany answered. “I hope Arethusa offers them supper at her house for a change. It’s going to be slim pickings around here if we have to stretch one can of beans among six or seven of us. Unless you want to take them out to eat and I’ll stay here with Carolus?”

  “Not on your life, sweetheart. Ethel and I will ride herd on Carolus and you can go with the boys. Let them treat you on Archie’s expense account. He’s had it pretty easy so far.”

  “How could I sit eating filet mignon knowing you were back here
with a can of beans and a crabby invalid?” Dittany protested. “We’ll manage one way or another, we always do. Do you think we ought to make a conciliatory gesture and have our tea upstairs with Carolus?”

  Osbert shrugged. “As long as we’re stuck with him, we might as well make a decent pretense of enjoying his company. Here, you take the cookies and I’ll carry the tray.”

  They found Carolus flipping the remote control switch from station to station and not finding anything he liked. “Ah, my bodyguard has arrived,” he remarked sarcastically. “Why three cups? Is the dog coming, too?”

  “Two cups for us and one for you,” said Dittany, refusing to be annoyed. “Ethel’s up on the Enchanted Mountain trying to find something to bark at. Do you want to pour or shall I?”

  “You, by all means.”

  They took their cups and cookies and sat for a while watching a program from British Columbia about how to carve a totem pole. Gradually they drifted into conversation, trying to stay away from controversial subjects. That meant mostly talking about the play, which led inevitably to talking about the lady who’d been temporarily known as Lou.

  “I’d rather hoped Arethusa might drop by and say hello,” Carolus remarked with a sigh of self-pity.

  “I’m sure she will as soon as she has a chance,” was Dittany’s consolation. “The thing of it is, we’d expected Osbert’s agent and his friend the producer to leave early this morning, but they’ve decided to stay over. That means somebody has to entertain them and Arethusa’s been the only one free to cope. She did mention something about coming back here at suppertime.”

  Carolus brightened up. “Then I ought to start trying to make myself presentable. I didn’t get much of a shave this morning at the hospital. The nurse gave me a stupid little disposable plastic razor which was about as useful as nothing at all. There’s a good one in my shaving kit. It’s in that suitcase Roger picked up at my apartment this morning. I always leave a bag packed because I never know when I’m going to be called out of town in a hurry.”

  He probably meant whether he’d have to take it on the lam, Dittany thought, but she didn’t say so since this was meant to be a peacekeeping operation. Osbert went over and started to open the brown pigskin suitcase that was sitting on the floor beside the dresser. Then he hesitated.